—But roughly but adequately it can shelter
In which she whomped
and tamped the earth to make a floor.
Beat a rhythm-rain
of brunts with oar and haft.
Gagged raw wallboards
(gaps and cracks) with chiggermoss with oyster-sacks.
Would some nights leak
a howl.
Rough-rigged a roof
(some type of sail?) from linoleum-scrimp and plastic.
Hacked a (splintery) hole
but hung no door.
Through which I’m put
more nights than not—could I be the flickering in her structure.
Would some nights leak
a howl (a count) a whistling-through.
I’m coiled inside
this shape she wracked and made.
—Atsuro Riley
Atsuro Riley is the author of Romey’s Order. He is the winner of the Kate Tufts Discovery Award, the Whiting Writers’ Award, The Believer Poetry Award, and the Witter Bynner Award from the Library of Congress.
